Sammy's Kisses (Taste Like Pumpkin Spice)
by HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: Dean visits Sam at Stanford for Thanksgiving


The big green sign indicating that he'd just crossed over from Oregon to California passed by in a blur, Dean's foot firmly on the accelerator and Def Leppard blaring from the speakers. He'd left John behind in a small cabin near the coast, nursing a broken leg and what was likely a concussion, both of them having come off a wendigo hunt up in the northern part of the state. It was the week of Thanksgiving, and Dean really didn't want to play nursemaid to John, not when he had what was almost surely a solid month or two of waiting for him to recover. And John Winchester when he was hurt like that well, he was a bastard if Dean was being frank with himself. That and Dean has been butting heads with him way too often lately to warrant sticking around, not when John could kill a werewolf in his sleep (which Dean was sure had happened before.)

Instead, Dean has made sure that his dad would be alright while he recuperated and slipped out while John as passed out from painkillers, leaving a note saying that he was heading south. John could figure out what heading south into Cali meant, more specifically a town called Palo Alto, where a certain younger brother lived.

A certain younger brother who Dean couldn't wait to see again.

Kicking up the volume a little more, Dean sang along to "Love Bites," tossing his head back a little with the line "I don't wanna touch you too much baby, 'cos making love to you might drive me crazy."

Ironic, Dean thought to himself after the song finished, because right now all he wanted right then was touch Sam, and touch Sam a lot.

It was still four hours to Palo Alto and Dean was determined to make it by nightfall, the vision of shaggy brown hair and deep dimples keeping him focused on the asphalt in front of him.

. . .

Tuesdays were Sam's favorite night of the week, for two reasons.

One, he didn't have class on Wednesdays until noon which meant he got to sleep in until eleven if he wanted. Two, it was dollar taco night at his favorite bar, called The Governor after one of California's foremost politicians (and Stanford University's founder, Leland P. Stanford.) Sam sat down his bookbag on the end of his bed and pulled out his cell phone, searching through his contacts to see if anyone else wanted to go with him.

After ten minutes of calling around he'd gotten in touch with Matt, Derek, and Jess, agreeing to meet him at 7 for beer and tacos. Sam had been craving it all day, especially tonight since he didn't have class again until Monday – he could enjoy his time with his friends as long as he liked. He looked at the clock on his desk, noticing it was almost six already. No harm in getting cleaned up a little before going out, especially since Jess had been making eyes at him for a week now and he kinda liked it, that little bit of attention that said "I'm noticing you because I think you're funny and handsome" and not "I'm looking at you because you're freakishly tall and are afraid you might knock me over."

The trouble was, Sam only had eyes for one person. A certain person who tended to wear a worn leather jacket with the collar popped up and refused to move his taste in music past 1989. Sam smiled and shook his head, wondering when he fell so head over heels for Dean.

Then again, that wasn't such a bad thing, now was it?

Sam stripped off his sweatshirt and t-shirt, gathering up his shaving kit and walking to the bathroom area in the middle of his suite, flipping the light on and starting the hot water running. He let his eyes drift over his form, proud of the muscle he'd been putting on lately, the light dusting of hair beneath his navel a little darker than normal. He thought he looked good, tight but not too tight jeans hugging his hips, waistband of his dark green American Eagle boxers (a splurge yes but dammit he had wanted nice underwear for once) peeking out over the top of his belt, inviting the eye to look further and harder at him – what would Dean say if he knew that there were so many eyes on him whenever he went out with his friends?'

Well, Dean wouldn't actually say anything, just lay his hands possessively on him and growl "mine" into Sam's ear. The mere thought of the way Dean said that, all low and hot and unfairly erotic had Sam going from soft to semi-hard so fast that he thought he was going to pass out from the blood rushing south so quickly.

It was also then that he realized just how much he missed Dean, and not just his sexy voice.

Refusing to let the malaise of his absent brother overwhelm him, Sam set about shaving his face, mind drifting back and forth between thinking about juicy tacos stuffed so full that they fell apart and Dean's hands roaming over his body, touching and teasing and making him want more and more.

. . .

So far as a college bar went (and Dean had been in his fair share over the years) this one wasn't actually that bad. It almost looked like it was once a gentleman's club of some sort, the walls done in dark woods, surprisingly unmarked by scratches and blemishes, indicating that there must not have been too many bar fights going on, and the smell of smoke wasn't terribly prominent – Dean didn't mind that at all really. His answer to that question came when he saw a sign indicating that the smoking area was out back through a large wooden door – all the better to take in the smell of what smelled like high-class booze, Dean eying the bottles on the wall behind the bartender, a pleasant looking guy in his late 50s, looking more like he should be a butler rather than serving drinks to college students.

Dean eased himself onto one of the stools at the bar, seeing Sam sitting across the room with his back to him, shoulders relaxed and his body shaking gently with laughter. It was too noisy to hear over the din of the bar but Dean had had that sound memorized forever, along with the way that Sam's mouth curved into a brilliant as the sun smile.

He'd be smiling even wider in just a moment.

Dean caught the bartender's eye, watching the man wipe his hands off with a cloth before moving over to where Dean was sitting and asking what he could get him.

Dean congratulated himself internally for his brilliance as he said "Strawberry daiquiri, a big one. And if I could get someone to take it to the Sasquatch over there, the one with long brown hair. Tell him that Agent Plant sent it, he'll know what to do."

The bartender smiled and shook his head. "I'm guessing you know Sam?"

Dean's smile dimmed a little as he looked down at the worn bar top. "Yeah, a long time now."

"You must be Dean." Ron, as Dean found out he was called, got out the stuff for the drink Dean had ordered, making it with an amused smile on his face.

Dean looked up and narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, that's me. Sam can't keep his mouth shut can he? Can't blame him really." Dean puffed out his chest a little, making sure Sam's back was still to him.

"He's mentioned you a few times, always really fondly. He… tends to get loud after a few drinks and your name has come out on occasion. Generally in terms of, and I quote 'Dean's the best I've ever had and I miss him like crazy.' That was after the end of finals earlier this year. I'd say you got a keeper there Dean."

Dean flushed crimson and suddenly found that looking down at his hands was pretty damn interesting. "Fuckin' big mouth…" Dean couldn't help but feel a rush of affection and suddenly wanted to go to Sam right then and there, damn the entrance he was planning on making him.

He just hoped Ron finished making that daiquiri soon.

. . .

Sam felt good, loose limbed and smiling, happy without having to think about why he was happy.. He knew it was partially the alcohol but he had suddenly remembered that he didn't have class again until Monday and that pleased him. He knew it wasn't much but at the same time it was something to look forward to, and Jess had agreed to spend the holiday with him since she couldn't go home this year. All in all things were looking up just a little and he couldn't complain, no matter how badly he wanted to be with his family.

Sam was about to relay a joke he'd heard the other day when Melinda, the server, came to their table, brandishing a round tray with a very tall, very pink daiquiri. Sam looked up at her, still laughing a bit, words slightly slurred as he asked "Think you got the wrong table Mel."

Melinda smiled fondly, gaze flicking over Sam's rosy cheeks. "No Sam, this is for you. An… Agent Plant sent it?" Melinda set the drink down on the table in front of Sam and stepped aside. It took exactly two seconds for Sam to scan the bar and find who'd sent it, cocky grin curling around a freshly opened Sam Adams, leaning against the bar with one hand in the pocket of his jacket, looking like he'd just won the fucking lottery, all because he was simply in the same room as Sam again.

Sam's face went from surprise to outright joy, his smile growing wider as he got up from the chair (totally not stumbling, no matter what Dean would later tell him) and like an iron pulled to a magnet Sam was walking towards Dean, arms already outstretched, Dean setting his beer on the bar and meeting Sam halfway, his body humming with the desire to be near Sam again, only for a moment later to be completely engulfed in outsize little brother, long arms going around him and pulling him tight, Sam's face sinking into Dean's shoulder, rocking him a little bit, Dean closing his eyes and resting his chin on Sam's shoulder, resisting the urge to press a kiss to his neck, instead breathing in deep through his nose, the overwhelming scent of some vaguely fruity shampoo and the smell of old books hitting him, a scent so familiar to Dean that it opened up the spaces in his soul that only Sam could feel, simply by embracing him in and breathing, feeling like it was the first time he'd done so in a long time, Sam the oxygen his lungs had been so loudly crying for.

Dean was aware of the fact that he was in the middle of a crowded bar and there certainly were a few eyes drifting their way but he just didn't care. He had been fucking waiting for too damn long to not let himself have this, have Sam back with him, in him, around him, breathing the same air and sharing the same space. Dean couldn't help himself as he moved a hand down further and pressed it to the small of Sam's back, pressing their hips together and fuck if it wasn't perfect, lining up perfectly, like they were made for no one else but the other. Dean could feel the bulge of Sam's cock against him, getting harder simply from Dean touching him and honestly Dean couldn't blame him – he'd started getting aroused the moment he set eyes on Sam when he sat down at the bar, craving Sam's touch on his body.

Sam finally lifted his head from Dean's shoulder and wiped at the corners of his eyes, gently slapping Dean on the chest, his voice a little unsteady as he spoke.

"Could have told me you were coming Dean." Sam smiled and laid a hand on Dean's shoulder, Dean's eyes a dark jade as he held his gaze.

"Would have ruined the surprise Sammy. Now go back to your drink, it's getting warm." Dean tried to nudge Sam away but it didn't work, Sam clinging all the tighter to him.

"Sorry Dean – you gotta come with." Sam tugged gently at his sleeve, resisting holding Dean's hand on the way back to his table. Dean wasn't gonna tell him that it would have been okay if he had.

Dean sat down next to Sam, quickly squeezing Sam's thigh under the table as he pulled up a little closer, Sam dipping his head and smiling as introductions were made, only for Jess and Derek to get up as soon as Sam and Dean had gotten settled.

"We'll give you guys some time to catch up, alright? We'll see you later Sam." She threw a wink at Dean and as soon as they were gone Dean turned his full attention on Sam, his hand disappearing under the table again and rubbing up and down Sam's thigh, his fingers like a brand going right through to Sam's skin, already claiming him as his again.

"Cute friends Sammy. That girl sucking your dick good?" Dean made it sound absolutely filthy, and Sam blushed, hard.

"No… God no Dean. You know I wouldn't mess around on you man." Sam's voice was quiet, a little rough from the drinks he'd had earlier.

"That so?" Dean leaned in a little more, his breath hot against Sam's cheek, their knees touching under the table and if Sam didn't pull away right now he was sure his cock was going to burst through his jeans.

"'S true. Y'know I'm just yours Dean, always have been." Sam decided fuck it and let Dean's lips graze over the skin of his neck, drawing a long shudder from his little brother.

"Me too Sammy. They want me so bad, all those girls. But I just tell 'em about you, about how good you feel inside me, how you fuck me just right. Get hard just talking about it baby, thinking about you." Dean's voice was gravel rough, that note of lust completely unmistakable.

Sam had to bite his lip as Dean ran his finger along the inside seam of his jeans, all the way up to where Sam's cock was throbbing in his jeans, his underwear already soaked through with precome.

"Missed you so fucking much Sammy." Sam finally gave in and turned his head more, Dean's lips immediately meeting his, a chorus on ten thousand angels singing in Sam's brain as Dean's tongue probed against his lips, seeking permission to enter, Sam opening his mouth and letting Dean in, a benediction to his body that made Sam's hands scrabble for Dean, one hand gripping Dean's knee and the other going around his waist, pulling his older brother closer to him, finally starting to feel like he was complete again.

Dean kissed him as long as was socially acceptable before breaking the kiss. "Wanna get out of here?"

Just to be a good sport, Sam downed the daiquiri in one long pull, Dean licking away the remnants from around Sam's mouth before Sam pulled him up out of his seat.

It was all Dean could do to settle up the tab before Sam dragged him out of the bar.

. . .

Dean wasn't about to leave the Impala parked at the bar, not when there was visitor parking near Sam's dorm where he could keep a better eye on it. Dean opened the driver's door, Sam wavering slightly as he ducked into the passenger side, the alcohol in his system making him giddy and handsy, crowding into Dean's space as Dean started up the car and backed out, one of Sam's giant hands on his thigh, rubbing up and down and fucking squeezing right at the juncture of his hips, fingertips dangerously close to Dean's now very, very hard cock – damn his body for getting so aroused just by looking at Sam.

Sam leaned over and put his mouth right next to Dean's ear, breath hot and heavy as he growled "Need you. Fucking need you on your fucking back, legs around my waist. Gotta get you ready first though. Gonna use my tongue, lick and lick and lick until that tight little hole is nice and open for me, then I'm gonna fuck you senseless Dean, make you feel so good that you won't be able to move for hours."

Dean had to conjure up every gross image he had on tap to stop himself from coming in his jeans, and even then as he shifted his legs to make room for his erection he felt the slick slide of precome against the inside of his boxers, a wet patch expanding by the second, Sam's hand still on his thigh, feeling like a brand burning into his skin and claiming him, as if to say "Property of Sam Winchester."

"Jesus Sam, you want to run us off the fucking road before we get back to your place?" Dean tried to inject some seriousness into his voice, but it came out as kind of high-pitched and scratchy, like he wasn't in complete control of his body at the moment. Which, if Dean was frank about it, he wasn't.

Sam grinned, his eyes a lot more lucid than they should be from drinking so much. "Couldn't help myself Dean. God, still can't – you have any idea how long it's been since I've had you like this?" Sam's voice was quiet, low like it got when he was turned on.

"Just as long for me baby." Dean spared Sam a long glance before turning his attention back to the road, his eyes conveying the weight of his words, letting Sam know that this was it for him, no one else.

Sam couldn't help but smile when Dean took one hand off the wheel and tangled his fingers with his, safe and warm and familiar.

. . .

Dean was more or less dragged up to Sam's room, thankfully devoid of roommates as Sam fumbled with the lock to his door, Dean not helping in the least by grabbing and squeezing his ass and hips, already starting to suck a bruise into Sam's neck, right where it would be impossible to cover up with anything but a scarf.

Sam finally got the door open, pulling in Dean with him and slamming the door, hard enough to where dust shook from the ceiling. Of course, neither of them noticed, especially with the way that Sam had Dean's arms pinned to the door, his fingers closed tightly around Dean's wrists, mouths locked together, trying to taste as much of the other as they possibly could. Sam's tongue was a blessing, moving along with Dean's, licking over his lips, teeth, gums, everywhere, like he was trying to recapture some long lost memory to keep with him forever, Dean giving it right back just as good as he was getting, Sam's body covering his and molding them together through layers of denim and leather.

Sam finally backed off long enough to get himself undressed with one hand, trying to do the same to Dean with the other. Dean gently pushed him backwards and less than thirty seconds later they were both naked, desperation and practiced movements finally winning over, subconsciously stepping out of shoes as Sam led Dean backwards toward his bed, pulling him down so hard on the soft mattress that the whole assembly shifted a couple of inches to the left, which of course went completely unnoticed as well.

Sam reached down and latched into Dean's hips, gripping him so hard that there were definitely going to be bruises tomorrow (which Dean would wear proudly) and pulling Dean upwards so that he could straddle Sam's lower body, the amulet hanging loose around Dean's neck as he curled his body downwards to keep his lips pressed to Sam's, reaching behind him and stroking Sam's cock, huge and hard and slick with precome, Sam's hips bucking upwards every time Dean's callused palm passed over the ridge of his cockhead.

Sam broke the kiss and moaned, sucking in air like he was suffocating. "God Dean – please, need to be inside – God, fuck!" Dean had twisted his wrist upward, a giving a little extra pressure that he knew Sam loved.

Dean grinned, Sam feeling the muscles of Dean's face move against his mouth. "Gonna do what you promised earlier, get me nice and open with your tongue?"

"Fuck yeah Dean. Want you to sit on my fucking face and ride my fucking tongue." Sam's voice was cracking with want, his eyes a lot darker than their normal hazel hues.

Dean wasn't about to turn down that opportunity, getting Sam to move downwards as he moved up Sam's body, gripping the headboard as he spread his legs wide over Sam's face, more or less squatting. It wasn't exactly the sexiest pose in the world but honestly Dean didn't care, not with the way that Sam reached up and spread Dean even further, first pressing a kiss to Dean's entrance.

Dean rested his head against the wall and spoke. "Cleaned myself real good before I got here Sammy. Been thinking about this since I got up this morning, knowing I'd be here. Wanted it so bad baby boy, to feel you again. Fuck Sammy, so fucking ah!' Sam had cut Dean's words off by jamming his tongue into Dean, Dean suddenly feeling a lot closer to that blissful edge, Sam moaning into him as he licked into Dean's body, long, slow swipes over and into him, backing off and speeding up and then repeating all over again, never in the same pattern, Dean's arms shaking as he held himself up.

Sam's efforts got him a steady stream of dirty talk from Dean's mouth, his voice gravel rough as he rasped. "Fucking hell Sammy, knew you were fucking good at this before but shit, feels so goddamn good, can feel all of your fucking tongue, c'mon baby, harder, yeah, yeah, that's it Sammy, just like that, just like I like it, fuck Sammy there… fuck…. So fucking good, so fucking perfect shit Sammy need you, need you soon…." And on and on until spit was running down Sam's chin, his own cock painfully hard and leaking, standing straight up from his body, Dean's cock equally alive, its heat radiating against Sam's face.

Sam grabbed Dean's sides and more or less threw him down on the bed, Dean landing on his back and Sam surging forward, covering Dean's body with his, Dean tasting himself on Sam's tongue and getting even harder, bucking his hips upwards, cocks both precome slick and sliding against each other, Sam's hands all over him, touching touching touching, trying to get the feeling of Dean back under his skin, Dean who was home, brother, and lover all in one, tongues moving in perfect sync to give each other what they both so desperately needed.

Dean broke the kiss and looked up at Sam, mouth slightly open, nodding his head to silently say "I'm ready." Sam gave him one more quick, bruising kiss before pulling off of him and moving to dig through his bedside table, finding the tube of lube he kept there. Sam kept his gaze on Dean as he slicked himself up, hand quick on his cock, using the remainder to press two fingers into Dean, Dean holding his legs open while Sam prepped him more, throwing his head back and moaning when Sam's fingers curled and found his prostate, the sound almost enough to make Sam blow right there and then.

"That feel good baby?" Sam pressed down a little more, feeling the hard, swollen knot inside Dean.

"Shit… God Sammy, yeah, yeah." Dean was surprised he managed to sound coherent, given that Sam was currently doing his best to make him come with his fingers.

"Gonna feel even better in a second Dean." Sam leaned forward and gave Dean another kiss, this one slow, warm, completely unlike the nearly violent ones they'd exchanged earlier, a kiss that Sam knew would wreck Dean more than any sort of hard, rushed, contact would. Dean brought his hands up and cupped Sam's face, threading his fingers through his hair as Sam reached down and rested the head of his cock against Dean's hole, Dean's legs spreading wider as Sam slid in, Dean's mouth never breaking away until Sam was sheathed in him completely.

To his credit, Dean only winced a little, wrapping his legs around Sam's waist after Sam was inside him, both of them breathing heavy and adjusting to the familiar but still incredibly thrilling sensation of being connected like this. Sam knew it had been a while, could feel how tight Dean was around him, all heat and strength and safety wrapped up into one.

Sam's lips never left Dean's as he asked "How'd you want it Dean – all you have to do is say."

Dean smiled, looking into Sam's eyes. "Remember that one night in Arkansas, right after you got out of school for the summer?"

Sam nodded. "When I could hardly wait to get home to you because I'd been thinking about you all day?"

"And you made me come just from your cock?" Dean's cocked leaked a blurt of precome as he remembered.

"Fuck yeah I do Dean."

"Like that Sammy." Dean smoothed a hand down Sam's back and cupped his ass, pulling Sam even deeper inside him.

Sam nodded again, kissing Dean as he began to pump his hips, long, slow slides in and out that made Dean feel every inch of him, the flared head of Sam's cock hitting every nerve inside that space, Dean holding tight to him as Sam fucked him, gently but not too gently, the kind of reconnecting sex that they'd done quite a bit in the past.

Dean closed his eyes and let himself melt into Sam, starting and ending with him, wrapped up so tightly in his little brother that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began, moving in perfect sync, even now in the throes of lovemaking. Sam took Dean's hands and tangled their fingers together, pressing Dean down a little more and holding him there, hands on either side of Dean's head, their lips still locked together, tongues moving with Sam's hips, Dean's cock hard and throbbing between them.

Sam sped up a little more, a moan punched out of Dean's mouth every time Sam's cock found his prostate, Dean's toes curling as Sam hit that sweet, sweet place inside him, his nerves singing with pleasure, Sam sucking Dean's bottom lip into his mouth, the deep pleasure-ache deep inside Dean turning more to pleasure, the tease of orgasm right at the edge of his consciousness, close enough to where if he concentrated he could get there but leaving it, instead choosing to enjoy the feeling of Sam inside him, huge and hard and perfect, just like Dean remembered.

It could have been minutes, hours, days, Dean really didn't care, Sam taking his time with Dean, reveling in all the sensations that his older brother's body was making him feel, hands still locked together on the mattress. Sam was close, his cock thickening even more as he felt the rush of orgasm, his movements speeding up more, Dean reading him like a book and tightening his legs around Sam's waist, breaking the kiss and saying "Come for me Sammy, gonna come with you, just keep going baby, you can do it."

Sam came a moment late, Dean's voice the trigger he needed, crashing his mouth to Dean's as he spilled hot and messy inside Dean's body, Dean coming just from Sam fucking him, thick globs of come pulsing out of him and landing on his belly, Sam's hips stuttering as he fucked them through their orgasms, moaning so loud into Dean's mouth that Dean could swear his teeth rattled.

It was a long moment before Sam stopped moving, his body heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Dean let go of Sam's hands and put them in his hair, holding Sam close as he kissed him through the aftershocks, legs still wrapped tight around Sam's body.

Sam pulled out as gently as he could and rolled off of Dean, collapsing on the bed next to him, flinging an arm over Dean's chest and sighing contentedly. Neither of them were terribly willing to move, Dean reaching up and running his fingers along Sam's muscled forearm, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation of being fucked good and deep. He didn't realize how much he'd missed it until now, sated and happy.

Dean must have dozed off because when he opened his eyes again he was cleaned up, his boxers on and tucked under the covers next to Sam, Sam laying on his side and propped up on an elbow looking at him.

Dean turned his head and looked at his little brother, cheeks still rosy from earlier. "Y'know, it's kinda creepy when you do that."

Sam smiled, a million watts of white teeth and dimples. "You do the same thing and you know it you jerk."

Dean chuckled and put his arms behind his head, still looking at Sam. "'S cause you're nice to look at. Seriously you could make money with that face and body of yours Sammy."

Sam smiled again, shaking his head. "Only person I share it with is you Dean. Who knows, maybe I'll send you a porno of myself for Christmas.

Dean's eyes took on a glint of desire. "You'd do it too, wouldn't you?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe. If you can behave and continue to be the upstanding citizen you are."

"Keep talking like that I won't be the only thing upstanding." Dean waggled his eyebrows, proud of his own joke.

Sam rolled his eyes. "You try so hard Dean. I know you're all relaxed and comfy but… I'm hungry. All I had was some nachos at the bar and a greasy burger'd be good right about now."

Dean was already out of the bed and looking for his clothes.


End file.
